


Rear-view Conversations

by withered



Series: In another life [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Passenger!Tony, Pre-WinterIron, Talks about breakups, Temp!Bucky, Uber driver!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withered/pseuds/withered
Summary: Bucky's seen a lot of people from the rear-view of his car. He didn't expect Tony Stark to be one of them.





	Rear-view Conversations

Bucky figured that anyone calling for an Uber at ass o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t sober which was a relief because after hauling his last customer out of the backseat, he smelled like the floor of a bar.

Though he had already ditched the shirt and thrown on his hoodie, Bucky could still catch the unique aroma of an ill-advised Thursday morning, and grimaced.

Hopefully, his next customer was just as intoxicated and wouldn’t notice.

The last thing he needed was less than five stars.

Granted, it wouldn’t be the end of the world to lose his Uber gig, he had enough part-time professions – and could pick up more shifts at St Mary’s and The Bunker – to make up for it. But he had to admit that driving around and not having to talk too much made it one of his favourite occupations by default. Second only to his temp job at the dog guidance centre, but really – what could possibly beat hanging out with therapy dogs?

Not drunk people.

He’d probably have a better time if he drove during the mornings or afternoons, but he was an insomniac with debt thanks to the endless medical bills from the accident so he figured it could be worse.

Besides, he was prepared for the lack of sobriety, nine times out of ten.

Hence the plastic covers over the backseat, the barf bags in the pouch and the emergency medical kit stowed underneath the passenger seat.

When you’ve been driving an uber for the past year, you learn that preparation saved you a lot of trouble in the long run.

And being best friends with Steve I’ll-fight-you-even-though-I-weigh-as-much-as-a-wet-dog Rogers helped too, particularly when you’re the go-to friend of said man who could probably be blown away by a particularly aggressive sneeze of his own making.

Having seen Steve through the worst of his poor health was a definite advantage on Bucky’s part because he’s been the designated driver for everything from rowdy bachelorette and stag parties, to making sure some punkass kid didn’t get alcohol poisoning on his first bender, to accompanying a woman in the middle of labour who couldn’t get a hold of her partner and wasn’t about to go into the red calling for an ambulance, to even that one rare occasion where he was an accessory of a llama-kidnapping (Wade let him have joint custody); nothing really phased him.

And then, Tony Stark’s name popped up on the Uber Driver App.

There were other Tony Starks, surely.

Except that looked exactly like –

“Oh thank god,” he said by way of greeting, throwing himself into the backseat. “You cannot believe the day I’ve had. Well, evening, morning? What time is it anyway?”

“Ass o’clock,” Bucky found himself replying because _what is a verbal filter,_ and _when did it have hours of operation?_

Tony Stark snorted. “Not wrong, ah, sorry for this.” From the rear-view mirror, the billionaire-genius-philanthropist gestured at himself and _really, you’re apologizing for looking even better than the magazines?_

Bucky coughed. “Uh, same then.”

Fortunately, his passenger didn’t seem to think too little of him – lack of shirt and ratty hoodie et al – and actually chuckled at Bucky’s awful joke. “Well, it is ass o’clock, who am I to judge?”

“You’d be surprised.” It wouldn’t be the first time he got a star knocked off his rating because his choice in attire didn’t somehow suit his passengers' needs. One man’s scruffy was another man’s hobo chic. Besides, what did people expect from an Uber X anyway? A suit?

 “Ah, of course, you would end up meeting the ass end of humanity,” Tony noted sympathetically, shaking his head. “Apologies, we’re all a lot better outside of the taxi after a bender.”

“Yeah, not really,” Bucky mused, flexing his admittedly rusty social skills, and admitting, “I worked in retail before this.”

“God, _why_?”

He shrugged. “Why else? I love working weekends, and there’s just an unbridled joy in working the graveyard shift at 7/11.”

“Oh, do tell,” Tony leaned forward on his knees, and a wisp of a smile tugged at Bucky’s lips.

“I got my kicks out of detaching my prosthetic and leaving it for drunk people to find. My boss didn’t find it as amusing.”

His snorts in the backseat dissolved into giggles. “No kidding?”

“In my defence, I only started doing it because we didn’t really get customers and the arm hurts sometimes, figured no one would even notice.”

“And then?”

“It got funny,” Bucky admitted with a helpless shrug that had Tony giggling anew. “’Course, Boss didn’t feel the same.”

“Can’t buy a sense of humour, can you?” Tony tsked.

“Can’t blame ‘em entirely, I wasn’t cut out for retail anyway and I got this gig to replace it.”

Tony hummed. “Seems you’ve got a thing for drunk folks, huh? First 7/11, and now Uber driver on the sober shift.”

“Insomnia,” Bucky explained, “Figured I might as well make myself useful.”

“I hear you,” Tony said, leaning back into the back seat, and they settled into a comfortable quiet as Bucky followed the set route on the app.

“Oh, uh got a preference, by the way?” he remembered to ask, somehow managing to recall that it was part of Uber Driver Protocol 101, though he hadn’t had much use of it when most of his passengers were either blackout drunk or willing to scream along to the lyrics of whatever radio station he was tuned into when they came in. At this stage it was…Abba, really?

“Straight to the point, I like it.” In the rear-view, Tony wiggled his brows.

It was Bucky’s turn to snort. “I meant the station.”

Again, Tony chuckled. “This is good, nothing like Dancing Queen to get you through a breakup.”

He hit the breaks a little too hard, and winced against the sound of Tony slamming against the seat, even as Bucky himself muttered in disbelief, “The fuck?”

“What, did a cat run across the road?”

“No.” Shit, I should’ve gone with that. “If _you_ got dumped, what kind of chance do the rest of us shmucks got?”

“A lot better, trust me,” Tony declared with a shrug. “I’m not too broken up about it, I always knew it was going to happen, really. Pepper’s – Pepper’s amazing and she can do much better than me.”

“ _How_?” Bucky asked, openly baffled, “Is she going to marry a king?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “T’Challa has a healthy respect for powerful women, Thor too, wouldn’t surprise me if they asked her out after she crushes them in a board meeting.” And he sounded thoughtful, but the undercurrent of defeat rang clear. “Listen, you got a girl, Bucky?”

Startled that Tony had even gotten his name, Bucky replied, “No, but even being into fellas, I’m about as single as the day I was born.”

“ _Well_ ,” Tony began, raising an interested brow that Bucky did his best to ignore – though his blush did little to help that feat, and just the barest interested twitch in his pants wasn’t in any way helpful towards the endeavour either. “ _When_ you get yourself a _fella_ , heed the words of a grumpy billionaire: listen to them, and I mean actively listen; not just to what they say, but to what they don’t.”

Bucky didn’t get the dumped-passenger that often, but they weren’t beyond him. Most of them were either very weepy or super pissed, and Tony – Tony was none of that.

And it wasn’t because he didn’t care that he’d been dumped.

On the contrary, while he wasn’t sobbing his guts out, his eyes were red rimmed, and while he wasn’t angry, his fists were tight – one hand clutching his slacks and the other pulling at his loosened tie.

“For someone who just got dumped, you’re taking it pretty well,” Bucky observed.

“Like I said, it’s been coming,” Tony said with a shrug, “I just always thought that if I could ever get myself in relationship, it would be with her and that would be it. You know, _the one._ Still, I always knew she was going to leave.”

“What’s with the defeatist attitude?”

“I’m a realist,” he defended.

“Didn’t you say in an interview that you could privatize peace?”

“And I did, see? Realistic.”

Bucky snorted. “I mean, you could always get her back?”  he suggested, though he himself wasn’t keen on it despite it being none of his business.

“Nah,” Tony waved off. “It’s better this way, a clean break. Maybe – maybe we’ll be friends again. We were always better at that.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

His lips lifted in a smile. “Thanks, it means something, really.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence again, before, “I’m actually a little relieved, y’know, that she ended things.”

“How’s that?”

He shrugged carelessly. “I tried to be everything I thought she wanted; showed up to work and did it without complaining like I usually do, tried to be romantic, did the whole “grand gesture” thing for special dates and when I fucked up – and man, I fucked up a lot. And I just – I never seemed to get it right. I’m just – I’m glad I won’t disappoint her anymore.”

“I’m sure you weren’t ever doing that.”

“Why, because I’m Tony Stark, billionaire-genius-philanthropist?”

“Because you were trying, and that counts for something,” Bucky replied. “I’m sure Miss Pepper appreciated it.”

“But…?”

“But nothing. Sometimes you can give your all to someone and it’ll never be enough. The trick is to do it for someone who’s willing to do the same.”

“You write fortune cookies too?”

Bucky exhaled a laugh. “Actually, I’m a bartender, giving sage advice to drunk folks is kind of my shtick.” Tony hummed, a small smile tugging at his lips before their eyes met in the rear-view. “For what it’s worth, you’re a pretty busy guy; if I had a fella as thoughtful as you, I’d just be glad to spend time with you.”

Tony huffed out a smile. “You’re smooth, Barnes, I’ll give you that.”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m told my people skills are rusty, figured I should give it a try.”

“Bucky, by the way?”

“Childhood name; couldn’t shake it,” he explained away.

 “Really,” Tony asked, genuinely surprised, “what’s it short for?”

“Buchannan.”

“Yikes, Buchanan Barnes, definitely a mouthful.” He paused. “Oh god, that wasn’t rude was it? I wish I could blame it on the alcohol but it’s also part of my personality and I’m trying to get better at not offending people but y’know, old habits and whatever.”

“Ah, no, not offended, it’s true anyway,” Bucky found himself chuckling, “Though my first name’s James.”

Tony hummed. “James, that’s a lot better.” As they pulled up to the curb, Tony patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks for this James, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, if I get to spill my emotional guts to you, you can at least call me by my name.”

Bucky grinned. “Sure thing, Tony.”

Again, Tony patted him on the shoulder, flashing him a wide smile and a wink.  “Until next time, James.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm bad at being on hiatus. Oops. I've got a sad fic courtesy of tumblr to be posted in a few.
> 
> [Click here if you want to find out more about my work](https://everything-withered.tumblr.com/)


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